


550 Years

by dragonfly_moonlight



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Original Characters - 'At'prafen Pax
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-26
Updated: 2010-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-12 05:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/121372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonfly_moonlight/pseuds/dragonfly_moonlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They left a long time ago. Now they are returning to a different planet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	550 Years

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I only own the character 'At'prafen Pax and I will protect her from unauthorized use zealously.
> 
> Author's Note: Um . . . blamed on the show, _Life After People_. Yeah. And I am Silverblue Sakura of ff.net. Thanks.

_If we are not careful in how we tread on this Earth, there will come a day when our planet will destroy us and it will live on once we are gone. If you need the proof, just look at the old dinosaur bones in the museums. There you will find your evidence._ – Author of the story

The soft hum of machinery filled the room, disturbed by the occasional clacking sounds of coordinates being entered into the system. No one on the bridge spoke. No one dared to speak. The ship's occupants had not been to this particular destination in around five hundred fifty Earth years, and no one knew what to expect upon their arrival. Granted, the Autobot leader had promised the citizens of Earth they would return some day, and he asked their leaders to mention this so future generations would not be surprised upon their arrival. However, he had no guarantees Earth's political forces would keep their word. There were some among the general populace who would, but they had been few in numbers. While it only took one to make a difference, change for acceptance took humans a long time to accomplish.

Optimus gazed around the bridge, his optics landing on the members of his crew. The rest of his Autobots were below deck, either recharging or trying to pass the time with conversation or video games they had taken with them when they left Earth. Those on the bridge, as well as keeping quiet, wore pensive expressions, and a few of them were more attached to green and blue planet more than the rest of his crew.

Next to the Autobot leader sat one such individual, though Optimus knew the older Mech would never admit it out loud or where anyone could hear him say as much. Pale blue optics stared at a screen lit with a soft yellow glow, though the Mech's expression remained neutral. Optimus thought his friend's quiet behaviour to be odd, considering Ironhide's usual . . . enthusiasm for getting the job done. When Optimus first brought up the journey to Earth, Ironhide had voiced his discontent for the mission. None of their original human friends lived, and their descendants would know next to nothing about the Autobots. To the new generation of humans, Cybertronians were a thing of the past, a reminder of the savages of war. Optimus understood his friend's reasoning, though he believed Ironhide's reluctance stemmed from something much deeper. Something happened to Ironhide before they left Earth, something he refused to speak of, even to this day. He tried to pretend the humans no longer mattered. Yet, even he could not deny the impact the humans had on him and those who served under him. Ironhide, despite all of his bluster and gung-ho mannerisms, had been affected by Earth's inhabitants as much as the rest of his crew, and they were anxious to see how the humans were faring in their absence.

"Optimus, we are nearing Earth's orbit now."

Perceptor's voice broke through the Autobot leader's reverie, and he turned his attention back to the task at hand. Immediately, he noticed the scientist's expression of concern and bafflement, and he knew something was _wrong_.

"What is it, Perceptor?" he asked. "There's something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"We . . ." the science officer paused for a moment. "We are not being hailed by any of the humans' local governments. In fact, we are not detecting very many of their satellites or any other communication devices in use."

Prime simply stared at the science officer, his mind refusing to process the information given to him. He did not want to believe situations for the humans had deteriorated so badly their technology suffered for it. Granted, compared to the Autobots and their Decepticon counterparts, humans were frail and short-lived. If they were lucky, they would soon reach the same technological status as the Cybertronians during their first era of peace. Humans were, for the most part, intellectually inferior to the Cybertronian race, caught up in the worries of their own lives, but there were some amongst them that held great potential. It was those individuals Optimus chose to place his faith. Perhaps that was why Perceptor's news was disturbing the Autobot leader.

Then again, he surmised, perhaps it was their cleverness and ingenuity that caused such a worldwide technology failure. They were many among the human race still violent in nature. As a whole, humans had a long way to go before they could reach an enlightened state of mind, a state that would bring an end to all of the fighting, the pain, and the suffering. Prime mentally shook his head and returned his attention back to Perceptor. It would do him, nor anyone else, any good to speculate on the causes for a technological blackout for the humans. He would wait until he stepped on dirt before he reached a decision.

"Is there anything else, Perceptor?"

"As a matter of fact, Prime, there is," the science officer stated. "According to our scans, there has been a great reduction in pollutants in Earth's atmosphere. There are also sections of the planet that are greener, so to speak, than when we left. We are detecting several carbon-based life forms, but we are unable to determine whether they are human or something else entirely. Our computers are, I'm afraid to say, too inadequate to make any clear distinctions. It is entirely possible the human race has evolved into something no longer reminiscent of their original forms."

"It's also possible that humans don't exist anymore."

At the quiet declaration from his weapons specialist, Optimus turned to face Ironhide, shocked the old veteran would say such a thing yet keeping his control on his emotions all the same. Despite his blustery manner, the Autobot leader knew Ironhide possessed a soft spot for innocent and defenseless creatures, especially for humans. The weapons specialist had even been friendly with a few humans, some of which had been among the inhabitants "geniuses". His quiet declaration made no sense.

"And why would you say that, old friend?" Optimus asked. "You have seen how resilient humans can be. They are not like most other creatures on their planet. They are capable of adapting."

"They're also capable of destroying each other without hesitation," Ironhide pointed out, his accent becoming more pronounced. His voice was the only indication of his anger. Never once did his expression change. It still remained calm, sad almost. "I heard it once said that the planet itself is capable of destroying those who would destroy it. It may take an asteroid to do so, but the planet will destroy any threats to its safety. Earth itself will outlive the human race."

"Sounds like one of the doomsayers," Sideswipe muttered. The red Lamborghini twin sat not too far from the weapons specialist. "Or . . . what did they call those people? Extreme environmentalists?"

"It does not matter who said what and when," Prime interjected. He knew Sideswipe well enough to know the younger Mech sometimes went out of his way to aggravate and rile Ironhide. As the Autobot leader, he needed to maintain a sense of calm and reassurance for his Autobots. Fighting amongst themselves was unnecessary and would accomplish nothing. "Right now, we know nothing of what has happened on Earth. We have been gone for many centuries. It should be expected that things will have changed since we were last here, and we will know what those changes are once we land."

"How do you want us to deploy?" Prowl asked. Optimus paused for a moment, his decisions coming quickly. He knew how he wanted to proceed. He wanted to treat the situation delicately. They had no idea as to what to truly expect, after all.

"Prowl, I'd like for you. Moonracer and Wheeljack to head towards Los Angeles," Optimus began. "Ironhide, Sideswipe, and Jazz will head for Chicago while Tracks, Firestar, and Sunstreaker will head for New York City. Ultra Magnus, Elita-1, and I will head for Washington D.C. The rest of you will head for Oregon, Michigan, Louisiana, and Nevada. Head for the major cities first then travel towards the smaller locations. Be mindful, though, of your disguises and how you move around. If there is no sign of any technological advances and they've actually been set _back_ , a human seeing a running car might get the wrong idea. After we finish with our recon, we'll rendezvous in St. Louis. Blaster, you, Arcee and Bumblebee will remain behind to monitor communications, and you will report to me once the others have contacted you."

"Understood, Prime."

Those assembled on the bridge then returned to their positions to wait. Optimus sat in his chair, his gaze traveling to Ironhide every so often. A wave of sympathy overtook the Autobot leader, and he refrained from sighing.

If any of his Autobots stood anything to lose by any setbacks for the humans, it was Ironhide. Though the weapons specialist had yet to say anything, Optimus knew his old friend hoped, and longed, for news on Chromia, and it was believed the humans would have some knowledge on any wayward Autobot. The last anyone knew, she had traveled towards the Milky Way system, on her own, and possibly had taken refuge somewhere around Earth, like so many others had done.

'I pray you're wrong, Ironhide,' Optimus thought. 'Because more than anything, I want to see you reunited with her. That way, you can finally know happiness.'

* * *

"Do you think she'll be on Earth?"

Ironhide paused for a moment before casting a quick glance at Sideswipe. He knew to whom the younger Mech referred. Sideswipe was referring to Chromia without actually mentioning her name. Most of his comrades tried to avoid using her name as much as possible, as if they feared some kind of negative reaction from Ironhide. Even Optimus and Elita-1 stopped using her name in his presence. Only Prowl and Jazz said Chromia's name around Ironhide. Then again, they were the ones who truly knew him best. They knew he would not grow angry with them for saying her name. At least, they knew he would not be too angry with them. The Femme's disappearance was still something of a sore subject for Ironhide. He shrugged his shoulders in response to the Lamborghini twin's question.

"Don't think so," he replied.

"Chromia might be there," Jazz said, his tone soft. "She always did have a penchant for doing something to surprise you. Yeah, I know she didn't always care for humans, but she did like the colours on Earth."

"True," Ironhide conceded, his tone unusually quiet and thoughtful. "She did like the oceans and the forests best."

He typed in the commands into the console. Per Prime's orders, each scouting party was to take a small shuttlecraft to Earth's surface. They were to land _gently_ in areas with little or no habitation at all so as not to alarm the local populace. Ironhide was not about to say it was a waste of time – that was what they had Gears for – but he wondered about Prime's decision for the use of the small shuttlecrafts.

"I hope you're wrong," Sideswipe said. "About the humans not being on Earth anymore. It wouldn't be right if they weren't there. It wouldn't be the _same_."

"No, it wouldn't be the same," Ironhide agreed. "But Earth was around before they came into existence. It'll continue to be Earth without them."

"Why are you being such a downer about this?" Sideswipe asked. "It's like you've been hanging around Gears and Red Alert for too long."

"Honestly?" Ironhide said. "I don't know. It's . . . it's just this feeling I've had for some time now."

"Feeling?" the twin said. "Like a premonition type feeling or an instinct type feeling?"

Ironhide did not answer right away. It was rare when the younger Mech asked him such a question, but he knew why his fellow Autobot inquired. Over the years, when such "feelings" came to Ironhide, the weapons specialist was hardly ever wrong in his guesses and assumptions. He never lost his enthusiasm for the fight, but such sensations tempered him, calming him, and allowed him to see a much bigger picture. Many of their fellow Autobots were still alive at that moment because of Ironhide's counsel. However, only a few had deducted there were differences in Ironhide's "feelings," what Sideswipe had just referred to as premonition and instinct. Those were the few who asked and did not always care for the answer.

Were his feelings more along the lines of premonition? Premonition was more of a human term, one the Autobots had readily adopted, and it was a more than apt term. Or was it more his instincts kicking in, telling him to not get his hopes up? Both seemed appropriate for their return to Earth. Ironhide then shrugged.

"Both, I guess you could say," he replied.

The hangar bay doors opened at that moment, and Ironhide guided the shuttlecraft through them. Behind him, Sideswipe shifted uncomfortably while Jazz started typing in a few commands of his own, and they traveled, for the most part, in silence. Every now and then, Jazz commented on something or another, but it was hardly conversation worthy material.

Several breems later (Ironhide somehow managed to lose track of time), they were entering Earth's atmosphere, and Jazz's chatter picked up some. It was somewhat annoying, the play by play for his actions, but Ironhide understood the reasons all the same. Prime had developed a penchant for knowing precisely what his Autobots were doing while working their shifts on the bridge. Ironhide chalked it up to watching one too many Star Trek episodes. Or was it from the movie _Galaxy Quest_? Ironhide was not sure. He only knew it had become a habit for most at the navigation console, him included.

"Almost to the Windy City now," Jazz announced. He then paused. "I'm not detecting any signs of human activity."

Ironhide glanced at his friend from the corner of his optic.

"How wide are your parameters?" he inquired. "And what do they include?"

"Given what I recall about human features and all that," Jazz said, "wide enough, my man. Shouldn't matter if one's in a car or on a bicycle or even standing still. I'm not finding any signs of humans whatsoever. There are other indigenous creatures but no humans."

"Maybe they've left Illinois for good?" Sideswipe ventured, his tone of feigned jest. Ironhide said nothing in return as he landed the small craft within the outskirts of the Chicago city limits. Several moments later, he, Jazz, and Sideswipe were standing outside and looking up on a very desolate picture.

There were no roads heading in or out of Chicago anymore. From all appearances, the ground had swallowed the concrete and asphalt, breaking it and tossing it asunder when it could digest no more. Trees at least three or four decades old, maybe even older, stood tall and proud, basking in their mightiness. In the distance, Ironhide saw the remains of Chicago and felt a pang of loss.

From what he could see, Chicago had been abandoned at least a century or two beforehand. The glass to the remaining buildings was long since gone, and most of those still standing were nothing more than hollowed out shells. At least, the buildings made from metal and brick and concrete were former shadows of themselves. Ironhide did not see a single construct from wood. Around them, wildlife grazed. A few even hunted, dogs of a non-descript breed and cats hiding amongst the trees. Ironhide did not recall ever seeing dogs with such shaggy-looking coats or cats with the ability to glide. The sights baffled him, and he idly wished he had Perceptor with him to tell him what kind of creatures they truly were.

'No,' he thought. His gaze traveled back to the city. 'No, I don't. I'd get some long-winded answer about he doesn't even know.'

Even the Sears tower had not escaped the ravages of nature unscathed. It still stood tall and proud, unlike the surrounding buildings, but the glass was gone. The metal supports were rusted and weak, simply waiting for the right moment to snap and send the once shining building crumbling to the ground. To Ironhide's optics, a good stiff breeze would do the job rather nicely.

As if on cue, the weapons specialist heard something snap within the tower. A low rumbling sound filled the air then, in sickening slow motion, the entire building collapsed in on itself, sending dirt and debris crashing towards the ground below. Ironhide felt numb as he helplessly watched the tower disappear from existence. He hoped there were no creatures around the building as it fell.

"Primus," Sideswipe murmured. His voice trembled a little as he spoke. "This . . . this is bad . . . I mean, I know you thought there would be no humans left . . ."

"But not this? I don't think anyone did," a new voice added. Ironhide recognized the Mech's voice immediately, though he could not hide the wave of shock coursing through him. He, Jazz, and Sideswipe turned to face the newcomer, their optics wide. Hot Rod offered them a faint smile. Behind the orange and red Mech were four others, Femmes and Mechs Ironhide not only recognized but cared about and loved very deeply.

Like Chromia, Hot Rod had disappeared from the Autobot ranks. Why, only Ironhide truly knew, but he had promised to not say. The younger Mech felt there other things he could do and accomplish without the Autobots, things that would ease his unrest during recharge, and finally the compulsion to leave became too strong. Like Chromia and so many others, Hot Rod had simply . . . left, and now he stood a few meters away, an apologetic and sad expression on his face.

"Hot Rod?" Sideswipe all but whispered. "What . . . what are you doing here? And what happened? Where did the humans go?"

"It was the plan to meet here after so many years, wasn't it?" Hot Rod answered. "So we came. As for what happened to the humans, we don't know. When we arrived, the cities were empty."

"There were several animals trapped within many of the constructs," one of the Femmes added. She stepped forward, her red and white paint glimmering in the sun. "So we let them loose and tried to help them find food. Hot Rod said it was what the humans did. He said they were pets of the humans and that many of the humans cared for them greatly. Sometimes, the animals were treated better than their fellow humans. Sometimes, they weren't."

"How long ago did you get here, 'At'prafen?" Ironhide asked. He tried his best to contain his happiness and his anger from his voice, but he knew he had failed. The day was simply becoming too much to process. "Because from what I can see, this is at least a century's worth of damage, if not two."

'At'prafen tapped her chin a second before answering, "At least five hundred solar cycles on this planet. Maybe a little longer."

"And we couldn't detect you because?" Jazz prompted.

"We've long since learned how to disguise ourselves from the Decepticons, thanks to Goldstarr," Hot Rod replied. "We would have liked to keep the cities maintained, but without humans, it would have been a little suspicious. So we watched as the planet reclaimed everything back. The land, the animals . . . everything."

"It was . . . heart wrenching, as Hot Rod likes to say," 'At'prafen murmured, her voice lending to the sadness Ironhide felt. "Many of the animals, they could not survive without these humans, and they died so quickly within that first year."

"What _did_ happen to the humans?" Jazz said. "You never did answer that."

"We don't know," Hot Rod answered. "We honestly don't know. They were gone when we got here."

"Hot Rod says the planet keeps its own records as to what happens to the life contained within atmosphere," 'At'prafen said. "Yet there is nothing to say what happened to cause humans to leave as they had. They had certainly discovered the means to travel beyond Earth's atmosphere yet there are many shuttlecrafts to the south. They, too, are nothing more than mere imitations of what they once were. Why do you ask?"

"Because most humans would not willingly leave their pets behind," Ironhide said. "Hot Rod wasn't kidding when he said some treated the animals better than their fellow humans. Most considered the animals to be members of their respective families."

"Many of the animals were also susceptible to a few of the human diseases," Jazz added. He turned his attention to Ironhide. "Remember that one Stephen King movie? _The Stand_? That super flu wiped out most of the human race and many of the dogs as well."

"Yeah, I remember," Ironhide murmured. "But a disease like that couldn't destroy the entire human population. Some would be immune."

"A nuclear explosion perhaps?" Sideswipe offered. "The United States has quite a few power plants."

"One, or all of them, going would have destroyed everything but the cockroaches," Jazz said. "The cities would have resembled many of the cities on Cybertron once the war broke out. This . . ." he gestured to the broken city behind him, "is the planet's doing. Nothing more and nothing less."

"There was no such damage," Hot Rod said. "Everything was _intact_."

"What about human bodies?" Sideswipe said. "Surely, there must have been _something_ left of them when you got here."

"There was absolutely nothing except for the ones already buried," Hot Rod answered. "It was as if they never existed _at all_. In fact, if it hadn't been for the cities and roadways, I would have sworn humans were something I created in my mind."

* * *

"Optimus, what is this?" Elita asked. She gazed at the massive amount of water before her. "This isn't the capital city. This is like a swamp. This _is_ a swamp."

"But it's where D.C. _should_ be," Ultra Magnus said. "At least, that's what my databanks are telling me."

Optimus said nothing to either his mate or his lieutenant. He knew what they were both saying were true. Where they stood were the precise coordinates for Washington D.C. yet it was a swamp, not a major metropolis. The only indication it was even the right location for the U.S. capital was the upper portion of the Washington Monument sticking out of the waters' depths. He could not even begin to describe the shock he felt at seeing the once proud city drowned by water and reduced to nothing more than a swamp, and it was a shock he could not fight.

"So the prodigal Autobot leader returns to the world he loved almost as much as his own home world," a voice jeered at them. "Too bad his return goes unnoticed by the inhabitants."

"Megatron," Optimus ground out. He whirled around to face his enemy, pulling his rifle from subspace. There, with the sun behind his back, stood Megatron, the entire Decepticon army behind him.

"Relax, Prime," Megatron said. "I'm not here to fight. Not this day, anyway."

"Then why are you here?" Elita demanded. "If not to fight, then why?"

"I was . . . curious, I suppose," the Decepticon leader said, his tone thoughtful. He tilted his head as he regarded the three Autobots before him. "As I said, Optimus loves Earth as much as he loves Cybertron. I wished to see how he would react to the sights you now see. Of course, I guess I thought he already knew of Earth's . . . plight, and I was hoping he would be able to tell me the answer to my question. In seeing your reactions, I guess not even you would know."

"Know? Know what?" Optimus asked.

"What happened to the humans, of course," Megatron replied. "They have been gone for many a century yet there is no sign as to why they have disappeared or what caused them to leave. Surely, you do not believe they would leave everything behind. They were too in love with themselves to abandon everything they knew."

"I would suppose you had done something to them," Optimus retorted. "You wanted to exterminate them, after all."

"Not all of the humans, Prime," Megatron said. "Most of them were small, insignificant, worthless, and they did not deserve to even live. As a species, they were fragile and short-lived as well as arrogant and condescending towards their own kind. Some, however, had their uses. Some were able to dream of things we were never able to conceive. Those were the ones who had their uses. Then again, even worms have their place, you must admit."

"You only say that because of how they were able to best you at times," Optimus said. "They proved to be more resilient and defiant to your whims than what you could have ever anticipated."

"True," Megatron conceded. Optimus saw the beginnings of a smirk form on the Decepticon leader's face. "However, I need not worry over their annoying presences any longer, and I have what I've come for. Decepticons, we leave. Let the Autobots ponder this mystery in Earth's atmosphere. It concerns us not."

"What you've come here for? What are you talking about?"

Megatron, however, did not answer. His smirk grew, and he took to the skies, the rest of the Decepticons following. For a second time in less than seven hundred years, his anger started to get the better of him. Optimus started to chase after them, and he would have, if his commlink had not interrupted him.

"Optimus . . ."

"What is it, Blaster?" he asked, mentally chanting to soothe his frazzled relays. He needed to calm down. His Autobots would be reporting in soon, and he had to focus on them. He would deal with the Decepticons soon enough.

 _"We've just received word from Ironhide and his team,"_ Blaster said. _"His recon was almost a total bust. Chicago is no more. I guess he, Sideswipe, and Jazz got there in time to see the Sears tower fall. It wasn't a pretty picture, I'm sure."_

Optimus closed his optics and felt his spark plummet. If what Megatron said was true, the humans no longer existed, and it meant Ironhide's words were indeed correct.

'Perhaps I should have listened to him a little more carefully,' he thought. 'What am I saying? I _definitely_ should have listened to him more carefully about this mission. He hasn't been wrong about things like this. Not for a very, very long time. Primus, what was I thinking?'

Then Blaster's words came back into his mind. Ironhide's recon was _almost_ a total bust. That meant they had discovered something of great importance. What had his team found?

"What did he find, Blaster?" he asked. "And please tell me it's something _good_ , better than we've found."

"You're not going to believe this, Optimus, not one little bit."

For a moment, the Autobot leader thought he could see a smile on the face of his communications officer. He definitely heard it in the Mech's voice.

"Oh really? Do tell, Blaster. Do tell."

* * *

Ironhide stared at the night sky, marveling at how different it looked without the light pollution. It was darker, the stars more visible, not all that different from traveling in _The Sentinel_. Prowl and Jazz stood next to him, their gazes in the same direction as his. Walking towards him was 'At'prafen. Out of the Femmes of the group, only she and her younger sister, Goldstarr, did not wear helmets, and their lack of protective headgear caused them to stand out.

Once she reached them, she held out three small containers of energon. A faint smile touched her features. Ironhide accepted his with quiet gratitude as did Prowl and Jazz, and then the Femme wedged herself between him and Prowl.

"It's nice," she commented, "to see the stars while standing on a planet's surface. It's different than watching them as you fly by on a shuttlecraft. Don't you think so?"

Ironhide grunted a response and took a small sip of his energon. There was only one question he really had for her, but he did not want to say anything just yet. He had too much weighing on his mind, too much he did not even want to think upon. She turned her head towards him and smiled a little. Her head rested on his shoulder.

"I know," she said, "that staring at the stars is something you older Mechs like to do. It helps to soothe you, clear your minds, and regain your focus." On a softer note, she added, "You wish to know about Mother."

"So you've seen her then."

"Once," 'At'prafen replied, " and that was before we came here. She seemed a little off about something, but she never said anything. I asked her why she wasn't with you. I didn't get an answer, though, and I thought maybe you two had argued or something. I know that happens every now and then."

"No arguments," Ironhide said. "She just . . . left without saying a word."

"She's probably looking for something, like Hot Rod was when we found him," the Femme murmured. If he listened closely, Ironhide knew he could hear his accent in the young Femme's voice. It would become prominent before too much longer, but it would be nowhere near the drawl his was. "It was good to see her, at least. I get the feeling she hasn't been killed yet. Then again, you're already aware she isn't dead. Your bond with her is strong. It always has been. Anyone with two optics could see it. Yet you weren't expecting to find her here, with us. Why is that?"

"Probably," Ironhide said, taking his time to speak, "because she hasn't found what she's been looking for just yet."

In the distance, the low and lonesome howl of a wolf rang out.


End file.
